Three's Company
by KnightedRogue
Summary: Stranded on a deserted planet, Han and Leia try to hide Leia's pregnancy from an oblivious Lando. 2005 SFFA nominated and qualified: Beyond the Saga Best Humor, Best Ensemble, and Best NonJedi: Han Solo.
1. Han

**A/N: **This is a challenge put forth to me by the glorious **HerHighness33** in which I write a story at least three posts long about Han, Leia and Lando stuck on a deserted planet. This, ladies and gentlemen, is what came from this challenge. Enjoy!

**A/N: **Yes, yes, I know. "Pink Nails" is still not finished. Maybe I could wager a deal with **LimeLight**: when she updates TNQLL and I'll update Pink Nails? Ha-ha!

I'm just kidding, of course. Without further ado . . .

**Three's Company**

**KnightedRogue**

* * *

**Part One: Han**

It's not my fault.

Really. For once no one can blame it on me. It's not my fault the ship crashed – not _my _ship, either, let me add – I didn't invite the Imps along, I didn't disable the tracker chip before we started this blasted trip.

It's absolutely not my fault.

I'm not sure, but I think this is a first for me.

Concentration's coming tough today. My mind's wandering when I should be paying attention. Really, though, I never _have _to pay attention, so it's not like I do this a lot. Except for the occasional debrief where I zone out – maybe not so occasional, but the euphemism makes me sound like a better guy – I hardly ever miss something anyone says or does.

That's another first for me, too.

Okay, so this is not my fault. I'm trudging through this warped-out jungle telling myself that, and it's not helping because all I can see is my wife trudging up ahead of me and the guilt is driving me crazy. Irrational guilt. It's not my fault. But see, there's this part of me, the secret part that just a couple of people know about, and it's going nuts seeing my pregnant wife slashing through brush and debris and crap like that.

Yeah, okay. I'm a bit protective. So what? I got a lot to lose if I'm not.

Well, I can't get the voice at the back of my head to shut up. Weird thoughts keep popping up: she'll hurt herself, she'll hurt our child, she'll fall, she'll get hit, bit, poisoned, shot, stabbed. The possibilities are endless and I'm sure as hell not comfortable with any of them. But once I start thinking like that, I realize that she wouldn't let me coddle her even if she were being choked by Darth Vader. The woman is tenacious, if stubborn and hell to live with sometimes.

Well, I'm having a hard time with this whole situation. My pregnant wife is hiking with me up this real sharp ravine as we're scouting out the basic area as I try to fix the stupid tracking device. She volunteered us, and I _told _her it was a bad idea, but she seems to think my bad feelings have nothing to do with our current situation.

If I didn't love her so much, I'd strangle her with the nearest vine.

We've got another three kilometers to go, and I'm real worried. She's starting to slow down.

"Hey, Sweetheart, you wanna stop?"

She sighed and looked over her shoulder at me. "Will you _stop _it? You're driving me crazy."

"Who, me?"

She had turned back. "Don't give me that. If we have to keep stopping every ten minutes because you think I'm suddenly incapable of doing _anything, _we're never going to get anywhere. Lando's probably already there."

"I doubt it."

"Yeah, me, too, but you still need to shut up."

Her comment makes me grin as I watch her shake her head and continue walking.

"Memumphe. Ti malgo et sprulphra. Idio!"

"Did you hear that?"

She looks back at me and nods her head. I put my finger to my lips and drop the pack full of water canisters and rations on the ground, moving towards the right. Pushing through the branches, I can see barely four meters into the jungle and I'm pretty sure I heard something big. Big and carnivorous and hungry for pregnant women.

Leia's crouching right next to me. "What?"

"Get back, Leia."

She pushes herself closer to the opening into the bush. "What do think it was?"

"I dunno. Something not jungley."

"Jungley?"

"You know what I mean."

She nods once. "Yep, I know what you mean." And with that she's moving past the opening and into the jungle.

Damn her. "Wait, Leia! What're you doing?"

She looks back at me. "Exploring. What else?" She turns back and moves forward again. "Aren't you coming?"

"Of course I'm coming," I grumble. "I'm babysitting my very pregnant wife."

"I'm two _weeks_ along. That isn't long enough for you to demand bed rest for the next nine months." She paused. "And I think I've found the source of that noise."

I creep up to where she crouched. "Where?"

A shaky hand pointed directly forward. "Um, try there, Han."

And, staring at the plethora of old fashioned arrows pointing our way, I begin to get a very bad feeling about this.

* * *

"This feels real familiar."

She glances sidewise at me. "What does?"

"Forest, natives, capture. This is like our thing, sweetheart."

"Our _thing_?"

"Yeah. Some people do the dinner date thing, some do the lingerie thing. We do the risk of life and limb thing." I nod towards the leader of the procession. "Wonder if they'll serenade us or anything. The Ewoks at least provided music."

She laughed and grabbed my hand. "Trust you to make it all a joke." She gets quiet and stares straight ahead of us as we continue the climb up behind, ahead and to the sides of the natives, stumbling a bit the further we get. We're being pushed around on all sides by natives and up ahead I can see some big leader. Well, not really _see_, per se. I can tell that he's there and that he's obviously the big guest of honor.

We, unfortunately, are not.

"Hey, you okay?"

Her jaw clenches and I know she's angry. "I'm fine, Han! Just let me walk, okay?" She pushes herself forward, but I keep my hand on her forearm and bring her back next to me. She's not going nowhere without me right there to protect her and my baby.

"Solo, I swear – "

"Look, sweetheart, I can't help it, okay? It makes me nervous. _You _make me nervous." I slide my hand up her arm, over her shoulder and back behind her head. I push her against my side as we continue walking. "I've got my two most important people with me here and I'm not letting them out of my sight. So stay close, huh?"

She quiets down as we continue along the trail and doesn't say anything more, just pushes herself away from me and holds my hand. That's fine with me; the less I have to fight with her, the more I feel like I'm doing the right thing. And in this situation, I'm just hoping that I'm doing it right enough that I can get my child and wife out of here alive.

But, hey. It's me.

I'll figure it out.

But whatever happens, just remember: this is not my fault.

* * *

Okay, so _this _is my fault.

The dry leaves of the dry trees I can't take credit for. I'm really not responsible for the enormous stack of those dry leaves lying smack dab in the native village. And I can't claim possession of the large torches that line the center of the huts.

The fire that's burning a huge swath through the village center?

Yeah, that's mine.

Before I know what's happening, I'm rushing down the torch-lined path, trying real hard to remember which hut it was I was supposed to be sleeping in. The one with the guard asleep at the entrance?

Well, he used to be asleep.

Right now he's got his bow and arrow lined right up my way, chittering at me like I should understand what he's saying and motioning for me to move out of the way. All I'm really concerned about at this moment is getting Leia and my child away from my little pyrotechnic genius as it hurls itself this way, but the guy's got a pointy stick and there's not a whole hell of a lot I can do without my blaster.

That's when I realize how much I love my combat-trained, ruthless wife.

I'm thinking about what to do to the guy with the pointy stick when she pokes her head and one arm out of the hut, grabs the guy, and rams his head into one of the support beams of the hut she's hiding in. Then she takes the pointy stick and comes up to me.

She must have caught a glance at my creation because her mouth drops a little. "For the first time in your life, tell me this was deliberate and that you have a plan."

I love my combat-trained, ruthless wife when she's not being a smartass.

"Okay, let's say that for right now." And with that, I grab her hand and make an open break for the river on the north end of the village.

* * *

"No supplies. No direction. No weapons." Leia glances behind her as I work the oars of the boat we've stolen. "You know, if it was anyone but us, I'd be concerned."

"I _told _you it was our thing."

"Stop saying that. I can't decide whether that's a compliment or an insult."

"Compliment. Definitely a compliment." Why can't I find that tracking device? It was in my pocket before, wasn't it?

"That must be relative." She glances my way as I pat my vest. "Han, can I ask you a question?"

"I dunno. Are you going to compliment or insult me?"

"Seriously." She looks up at me. "Are you mad that I didn't want to tell Lando on the ship?"

Ah. That. "No. Not really." Sometimes it's real hard to lie to her face. "He'll be real happy. You know that."

"I know. It's just that Luke and he need to hear it at the same time. It's not fair otherwise. Luke will be the uncle."

"And Lando's pretty damn close."

"Han." Her voice gets real quiet. "You said you weren't mad."

"Look, you sat on the guy's ship and lied to him and told him nothing was up. He knows you're lying." Yelling at her isn't going to get me anywhere, and I hate it when she looks like she's going to start crying. "I'm just excited, that's all."

Her eyes look kind of red but she smiles big at me. "Excited, huh?"

"Knowing you have my baby in there? That's quite enough to get me excited, Princess. Quite enough."

* * *


	2. Leia

**Jeldo: **Thank you!

**Summers2004: **As I enjoy reading your enjoyment! Thanks! And Pink Nails is slowly, slowly coming together. It's just irking me the way this debate is going . . . oh, right. I probably shouldn't say anything, lol. Thanks again!

**GreatOne: **Mmm, well, as I reviewed the third part yesterday, I started to think that I may need a fourth to actually get them _off _the planet. But, shh! Don't tell anyone!

**HerHighness33: **10! Do you _want _me toleave Pink Nails to rot? Ha-ha, I'm totally kidding with you, you know. Once again, thanks for the lovely challenge - it's been a joy to write!

**Trout: **Fix and post the Hermoine one! Fix and post the Hermoine one! Pleeease . . .

**Anonymous: **Right now! And thank you for yournote - I really appreciate any comments anyone gives!

**Okay, gang.Here we go!**

**Part II: Leia.**

* * *

I hate boats.

We never had much time to spend out at the lake or ocean when I was growing up. It wasn't important. When most people need a vacation from life, they go to a sand beach or on a hydrocruise. We went to Coruscant.

To listen to the Senate hearings.

Needless to say, I've never been all that comfortable with the water, and my husband is _not _helping matters. His overnight traipse through the jungle river that deposited us through three sets of rapids and one small waterfall was the single most trying experience I've had in all of three days.

Being married to Han Solo assures a constant source of excitement.

Who knew he had such an affinity for hydrotransportation?

I am happy to say that we've finished with the river. We've landed our stolen boat at the mouth of the swirling cascade of _death_ and are currently somewhere near our original crash site. Somewhere. That's the key word there. I don't know where we are and I really don't think Han does either.

"Leia, do you know where we are?"

Obviously not.

"We can't be far from the crash site. We were always near the river on our way up the trail."

"So I go and try to find it?"

The man is dense sometimes. "No, _we _go to find it. I'm not going to just wait here."

"Leia – "

"Don't 'Leia' me. I'm not helpless, I'm not incapable, and I'm not going to treat your little commandments like they're law. Do I _look _like I'm ready to explode?"

"No, but – "

"Good, then let's go."

I'm not being too hard on him, am I?

I should be easier, maybe. Most women would be ecstatic if their husband showed half the interest in their pregnancy that Han has in the entire five days that he's known about it. Who would have known that Han Solo, mercenary turned New Republic general turned husband, would be so excited to have children?

Well, me.

We'd talked about it quite a bit after we were married. I was unsure that having children was the appropriate step to take, taking my lineage into account and the curse I'd put upon any offspring of mine. But Han . . . well, Han had never had a proper childhood. He hit the ground running at such a young age that supporting a young child must seem like a way to make up for it. It's not for me to take that away from a man that is so genuinely good and deserving of that future.

Not that I'd ever tell him that.

We fought over the issue for nearly six months. I would never have guessed the ferocity with which Han would argue for children. He'd point out advertisements with fantastically-behaved five year olds or Senator Muleutto's toddler that I fell in love with at the Descartes annexation party. He'd look at me with that _look._

Eventually, after many "discussions" with Han and debates with Luke, I gave in. Actually, that's the wrong way to phrase it. I began to love the idea of children. A baby to hold, to love, to care for. To give me insomnia, to make me worried sick, to watch grow.

And I got lucky.

Han had never looked so excited when I told him. His expression went beyond the normal bounds of Solo adorableness and into downright delight.

That made it final. I'd made the right decision. And even though I know I've sold my time, my sleep, my every waking moment to a being that is, at the moment, still living inside me, I feel confident that Han and I, together, can handle it.

Or them.

See, that's the part that Han doesn't know about. I got the original test done last week and, really, it's just a sneaking suspicion. Nothing with foundation, and probably just a nudge from the Force. I've had this nagging, this incessant whisper in the back of my brain that keeps telling me to take it easy, for my babies' sake.

_Babies? _Plural?

Well, that's my idea. Or my fantasy. I'm not sure which at this point.

He'll go nuts. He won't even let me stand up on my own.

Better not tell him until they're actually showing themselves, eh?

And, of course, I can't do it _now._ Han would go berserk if he knew I was pregnant with more than his one child and trudging through the wilderness of this fantastic deserted world that Lando discovered.

I have never wanted to kill a sentient creature more than I want to kill Lando Calrissian right now.

"Have you heard from Lando, Han?"

He's fumbling around his pockets, probably looking for that blasted tracking device he keeps fretting over. "I don't think his comm's working. I tried him in the village before the – ah, well. Before we left."

For the love of – "What did you _do _back there, Solo?"

"Nothing," comes the automated reply. The one I hate. He grins sheepishly. "The torches."

"What about them?"

"One just . . . fell."

Oh, now _that's_ reassuring. "Fell? Like the wind blew it over? Or like you decided to redecorate?"

He grins but doesn't answer.

What a surprise.

* * *

"Of course. Of course it's raining." I sigh tiredly. "It's probably the only week in which any rain falls here. Ten credits its monsoon season and that we'll both die, swept up into that _stupid _river of yours, and Lando will be the only one of us to survive."

"You know, your optimism always was the guiding light of the Rebellion. I can really see it lifting _my _spirits." He nods his chin towards me. "I bet you don't even have ten credits to bet me."

"How much you want to bet?"

"Oh, ha, Princess. Real hilarious." He assesses our current situation as I scurry under a palm leaf big enough to wrap around Jabba a good three or four times. "Let's stick around here for awhile. I'm not sure you should be out here in this rain."

"And _you _should?"

He grins crookedly as he moves under another huge leaf, probably attempting to dispel some of the anger heading his way. "My wife keeps telling me that I should take more water showers, anyway, so – "

He is absolutely infuriating at times.

"The quicker we move, the quicker we at least find the crash site." Just _try_ to fight me on this, Solo. I've got logic and I am in no way afraid to use it. "And what about Lando? We haven't heard from him in close to twenty-four hours. Does this sound like a good time to hole up because it's _raining_?"

"I don't _like _getting wet, Your Worship."

Scratch that. He is absolutely infuriating _all _the time.

"Deal with it." I shove the palm leave aside and begin to tramp through the already muddy ground, fully aware that Han is murmuring to himself but hurriedly following me.

Let him complain all he wants.

He's the one who claims to like strong women, after all.

* * *

"Oh, let's go steal the giant carnivore's egg while it's sleeping! What wonderful ideas you have, Sweetheart –"

I don't think I've ever run as fast as I have today.

Come to think of it, this is also the first time I've been chased by a sentient trying to kill me in –

Well, months, actually.

"Me? _My _idea? Which reality were _you_ in, Most Amazing Pyromaniac?"

"The one where we live!"

"I'd _really _like to be in that one, too, Solo. How exactly will that happen?" I huff out a breath, see it in the biting cold of the rain. "Care to ignite anything?"

"Oh, how droll, Your Highnessness – ach!"

Before I can react, I'm reaching the same place where Han had apparently slipped, fallen, and begun a long slide down a hidden ravine, foliage and rock whipping past. If we weren't being chased by – whatever – and if I wasn't doing the exact same thing, I might have laughed. The mud at least cushioned our ride, straight on our backs, and the roars of the frustrated _thing _subsided as we careened much faster than our previous jog and left him, her, or it without food. I reach out to the low branches of the smaller trees, but the rainwater has either made their surfaces sticky or instigated the release of some sort of natural oil.

It doesn't really matter all that much.

The mud begins to fade, I notice, as smooth stone takes its place and Han and I slow to a halt, the traction a bit stronger here than in our past encounters in the mud. I feel justified in merely lying on my back for awhile, soaking up the still persistent rain and imagining that my back isn't _killing _me from the scratches the stones had made.

And I find that I don't really mind the scratches all that much. It could have been worse.

It could have been much worse.

I could have done some serious damage to our child.

"You okay, Leia?"

"Yeah."

"My baby okay?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, good." He paused. "That's another rescue for me, Princess. I'm up by at least three now."

"If you want to _live_ to see your child born, you better drop the rescue tally, Solo."

"Fine." He pauses. "But at the time we dropped our long-standing tradition, I was ahead - "

I just sighed.

* * *

Reviews are marvelous! Thanks whether you do or not!

KR


	3. Lando

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**And it comes about that this three part challenge requires a fourth chapter for completeness, in my honest opinion. I know you guys are just real beat up about that, ha-ha. Be looking for that in a few days . . .**

* * *

**Part III: Lando.**

Whatever Han and Leia are doing right now, I bet it's better than my current situation. To tell the truth, _anything _would be better than this.

Actually, no. Reliving Cloud City wouldn't be.

Or Ylesia.

Or the hangover to accompany Han's bachelor party a year ago.

But I digress.

My brilliance has landed me exactly in hell. Or as close to it as I can get. Perched over a precipice leading to a remarkably large lava pool, feeling the waves of heat pulse against my skin, I realize . . .

One, I don't do superheated rock.

Two, I'm overdressed for the occasion.

And three, if I die, I lose my money.

This last one passes the others in its haste for immediate attention, and it's the one that motivates me to shimmy across the precipice and fumble for a decent handhold in the cliff face, no easy feat for a man like me, who – may I speak bluntly? – leaves the physicality of life to others. The rock is sturdy, erasing my vision of crumbling rock and a caped Calrissian falling to the magma below, and I eventually reach the edge of the cliff, hauling myself over with a pained breath and exhausted sigh.

I am _not_ out of shape.

But I _am_ crawling on the ground, reaching for the feet of the native youth standing above me.

Who needs dignity when my life is on the line?

"Memumphe. Ti malgo et sprulphra. Idio!"

Hmm. Well. I may have a bad feeling about this.

* * *

You know, you never can get tired of the whole hero treatment.

Apparently surviving hell is tantamount to encapsulating the spirit of the local fire god. Thus the hero treatment. Not that I'm complaining. In fact, I wholly support this way of life. It's dignified, in a heathen sort of way. Uncivilized is chic nowadays. And this hat is great, if you forget the particulars of its origins.

And so sue me, I decide this way of life is much, much more dignified than the one I lead off this little gem of a world.

Out there you've got real heroes like Skywalker and the Solos.

Who the hell needs a Calrissian?

Ah, smell that? I don't _care _what part of what animal it's taken from. I eat it with a smile and look at the celebrations out there near the center of the village. For me. And only me.

Buried in my shirt somewhere, my comm warbles.

I sigh, then raise the blasted thing to my lips as my gaze settles, once again, on the line of torches set up for my celebration.

Where something has just spontaneously combusted.

Actually, no. Where someone has _deliberately _started a fire.

I have a hard time trying to figure out where the organization is in this chaos, but I can plainly see that it's originating near the source of the flames. I scramble up to the top of my hut, look towards the mass of natives conglomerating near the edge of the row.

Just in time to see a human woman smash a native's face into a pole and face a heretofore unseen man. The woman keeps her back to me as she glances at the fire and shakes her head.

Of _course _it's them. Who else starts a fire in the middle of _my_ celebratory feast?

I can tune my ears to hear the last part of her sentence. " – was deliberate and that you have a plan."

No. Haven't you learned _anything _about your husband, Princess?

His voice returns her sarcasm. "Okay, let's say that for right now."

And then they leave me.

In a village full of natives.

By myself.

Don't those two think of anyone else other than themselves?

* * *

Cruel, cruel irony. That's the title of my autobiography.

And if I survive this little escapade, it might even get written.

Most civilized beings would _not _blame that last occurrence on their guest of honor. It's slightly inconvenient for me that Solo has a thing for fire: inconvenient enough that the village elders have decided that little, harmless me, Great Magnificent God of Flame, wished a giant swath down onto their village and decided to sacrifice me to the god of water.

I think.

You'd think they'd at least tell me, in Basic, why I'm going to die. Common courtesy and all.

Hmm. And what is this?

Note to self: If I survive, let Han know I found his tracking device. The man would lose his scar if it wasn't attached to his chin. I shove the half-buried piece of plastisteel into my pants pocket, hopefully before any of the natives see.

Nope. Wow, they really are unobservant.

Facing down the river, that _fast _river that seems to be going at breakneck speed, I try to avoid thoughts of the booming hydroponics market on Tatooine and focus on the situation at hand.

And maybe not. It's just a bit depressing.

Well, first rule of con-artistry: when in doubt, smile. Shake hands/claws/mandibles. And then leave.

Fast.

So I'm jumping into the river – _damn_ it's cold – and feeling myself tugged under the water and pushed at, yep, breakneck speed, towards the mouth of the river. Which, unfortunately for me, is _not _within the next three yards and is still _freezing_.

This is what they don't share with you on the day you sign up for the Rebellion. 'Join the Alliance! See the galaxy! Free the enslaved! Learn to swim in order to jump into semi-frozen rivers!' Not a good slogan.

Luke and Leia might be the only ones who'd sign up under that pretense.

Well, I'm probably at least a kilometer downstream from the natives by now. I find a rock big and stable enough to haul myself up, and just sit here, looking at that evil river as it rushes past me, dragging with it a piece of roughly rectangular-shaped purple fabric, shimmering faintly in the light from the overcast sky.

My cape.

That damn river took my cape.

I hate this sithspawned planet and everything on it.

* * *

I will not deny it. I am hungry. Hungry enough to do stupid things. Hungry enough to walk right up to this big lizard-thing and try to steal one of its eggs.

Like I said, stupid things.

It's not as if the big lizard-thing is _awake – _that would be downright suicidal. Whatever anyone says, I am _not _Han Solo. Not willing to risk everything for a thrill. I'm just so blasted hungry that I can muster enough courage to sneak towards the big lizard-thing's nest and try to steal the egg.

I'm not smart enough, apparently, to account for the sound of the egg rolling beside me as I struggle to pick it up.

And so the big lizard-thing jumps up and looks around, misses me and the egg entirely, and begins to fly off in a completely different direction, towards who-knows-what.

Some creatures deserve to die for their stupidity.

Suddenly, I'm hearing a scream and the rustling of bushes as the owner of the scream takes off running. Shouting.

" – wonderful ideas you have, Sweetheart –"

It's then I realize who just saved my life.

And, for the first time since his wedding, I'm the smallest bit glad I'm not Han Solo right about now.

My legs start a quick jog, egg regretfully not in arm, as I cut through the jungle, following the playfully caustic remarks of the Solos until the big lizard-thing roars in frustration and begins a moody trek back towards its nest. They obviously found an escape from the big lizard-thing and are lying low for the time being.

That's fine by me.

I can't save them all the time.

* * *

"You _lost _it?"

I could hear Leia's voice from the brush, less than ten meters to my left, and she sounded a little less mad than the time Han had donated one of her formal gowns to Wes Janson. But not a whole hell of a lot less.

"Oh, now, wait, don't go and blame _me _for all of this – "

"You lost the tracking device! How are you _not _to blame?"

"It's not my fault!"

Sure, old buddy. Sure it's not.

Leia is still yelling. "You were supposed to _fix _it and get us off this gods-forsaken planet! What are we going to do _now_?"

Oh, that's too good a line to pass up. With a grin and a – if I may say so myself – dashing wink, I step through the brush.

"Kiss the handsome guy that found it?"

Han and Leia both whip their heads around to stare at me. Sitting in a jungle clearing, drenched and completely encased in mud, the two are almost mirror images of each other – Leia still being the more physically appealing of the couple, of course. Even with all the mud. Strange. They scramble up and come towards me, Solo looking about ready to tear the tracking device from my hands. I throw it to him and back away. My attire may not be the best I've ever had right now, and I may have lost my cape, but I'll be damned if I'm going to further ruin my image.

Han is inspecting the tracker. "How did you fix it?"

"You switched the polarity monitor and it was set to minimum power usage." I throw a look towards Leia. "You'd think the great General Solo would have figured that one out, huh?"

Umm. That growl does not sound friendly. "You'd think."

"So the tracker is armed?"

I turn toward the Princess. "Of course, milady."

"Lando, shut up."

"Han." She rolls her eyes. "And Chewie's within range, right?"

Han walks toward her and dumps the tracker into her hand. "Should be. He's waiting by the second moon, as far as I know."

"How long before he gets the signal and comes?"

Han throws her a look. "Who knows? Could be a couple of hours, days." Did he just wink? "Maybe even nine months."

They continue to bicker back and forth as I sit and check out the tree to my right. They're always doing this. It gets slightly annoying; they've been together for so long now. At least they don't do the overly-physical displays of affection thing. They seem quite content to leave that where it should be. Solo doesn't have to flaunt Leia around any more than he does already. He's already the most hated man in the galaxy.

I muse over what they've said, and something hits me. Nine months.

Nine months?

Are you kidding me?

There's no way in all the hells of Corellia that he meant it that way.

Is there?

"Hey, guys, is there a reason why nine months on this planet would be a problem?"

Han's eyes are twinkling, I think. I'm not sure. Leia looks furious at one moment, and slightly euphoric another. Can't they just give me a straight answer? Don't they know how confusing they are right now?

"No," they answer, but I have a very distinct feeling that they both mean "yes". They just don't want to say it.

And that confirms it.

Han Solo's reproduced with Leia Organa.

A Solo with Force powers.

Good gods above, save us all.

And, good gods above, I can have _so _much fun with this.

* * *

So let me reiterate: yes, there _will _be a fourth chapter to all of this. An epilogue of sorts. I am the best author in the world . . . except not. Er, whatever. G'night.

KR


	4. A Twin Set

**Vegemite: **Lando-ish-ness was the goal - glad I achieved it! Thanks for reading!

**LimeLight: **Mmm . . . Lando was tough, but fun, for me to write. I'm glad you thought it worked! Yes, I like your Leia . . . but I think you've got a monopoly on Wes, Hobbie and Wedge. _No one_ can write them as well as you!

**I AM EOWYN: **Yes, Jaina always scared me. Han's daughter who looks like Leia but takes after Han, flies like no other and is a Jedi? That combo is just _too _frightening to contemplate!

**FuNnY cIdE: **H/L bickering is always fun to write! Thanks for reading!

**Pitdroid: **Ah, yes. Lando causes H/L problems, H/L cause Lando problems . . . I figure they're probably even by now . . . he he.

**From Heaven to Earth: **No worries! I've been lurking_a lot _lately at the JC, and it's because of finals junk -- I understand completely! Thanks for dropping a message - it's much appreciated!

**Summers2004: **And I always look forward to your responses! Thanks!

**SuP3R G1R:**Thanks! And the Solo-Skywalker clan isscary enough without adding children, my goodness!

**Prudence-Chan: **And that right there is why I need to have this fourth chapter! Thanks!

**Hello!** This is the last chapter . . . I'm sorry!

Your comments have all been lovely - I'm so sadly pathetic that I check every so often just to see who's replied. I heart reviews!

Note: As you can tell, I've played around a bit with POV with this challenge.Ever read "Hills like White Elephants" by Hemingway? Hardy har har. (Trout, shut up.)

And then I save you with a third-person limited with good old Lukie-baby. Ha-ha!

Thanks for being tolerant!

KR

* * *

"Leia you really look fantastic today."

"I'm covered in mud, Lando."

"Ah, but you would look good in a brown sack, milady."

"Shut up, Lando."

"Han."

"Leia –"

"Lando! What do you think you're doing?"

"Getting us out of here, Princess. What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Trying to kill us. Leia's friendmight come back. If that happens, you're running distraction, buddy."

"That's how you treat an old friend?"

"Yeah. You should see how I treat my new ones."

"I have no doubt. And your wife?"

"What about her?"

"How do you treat _her_?"

"Me. I'm standing right here, Lando."

"What do you mean, _treat her_?"

"I'm sorry, Princess. I _always_ pay special attention to you."

"Does it look like I treat her badly?"

"I truly think you look fantastic. Have you lost weight?"

"Lando – "

"In a minute, Han. Or maybe gained some? I've always thought you were one of the smallest women I've ever seen in my life. Pretty tiny."

"Lando – "

"Han. No, Lando. I haven't lost or gained any weight."

"Oh. I could've sworn you look – I didn't do anything!"

"Put it down, Han."

"What do you _mean_, Lando? Does it _look _like I treat her badly?"

"No! No. Just making conversation. Could you get the stick out of my face, please?"

"Listen. You're annoying. Leave her alone."

"Once you stop threatening me with jungle paraphernalia I might consider it. _Thank _you."

"Maybe we should leave. The thing must have finished prowling by now, don't you think, Han?"

"_This _thing hasn't."

"Get your finger out of my face."

"You – shut up. Leia, you shouldn't be – "

"I shouldn't _what_?"

"I don't want you to – "

"Two _weeks_, Han."

"What about two weeks?"

"I told you to shut the hell up."

"Actually, you didn't say 'shut the hell up' – okay, okay. I'm shutting up."

"Han – "

"Leia – "

"Lando. No one was saying my name. I felt left out."

"Look, we'll discuss this later. Let's go."

* * *

Luke Skywalker was relieved only when he saw three distinct figures amble down the ramp of the _Millennium Falcon. _Breathing out a withdrawn breath, he left the control station shadow and moved to greet his sister, brother-in-law, Chewbacca and Lando. As he progressed, he noticed a covert glance from Leia to Han and the rather weather-beaten face of Lando, wondering distractedly why something felt odd about the trio. Dismissing it as a manifestation of his worry of days before, he opened his arms and embraced Leia, stepped back and smiled welcome at Han, Chewie and Lando.

And then it slammed into him with all the force of the now-deceased Wampa of Hoth.

"You're pregnant!" He yelled, moved to embrace her once again, feeling his spirits rise momentously at the prospect of his niece and nephew. Chewie roared in surprise and flashed a set of frighteningly large teeth at Han.

Luke heard Han swear under his breath and grinned into Leia's hair. Pulling back, he mock-glared at his sister. "How long have you known?"

She glanced at Han. "Two – well, it's been nearly three weeks now."

"Did you know Han could keep it a secret from us for so long?"

The former gambler had spoken the words and Luke watched Han's mouth open and close soundlessly, his eyes large and unbelieving.

"You _knew_?"

Lando flashed a grin. "Of course I knew. You two are awful at keeping secrets, you know? It's a wonder you survived the Rebellion at all."

Chewie growled.

Han seemed to rediscover speech. "I didn't say _anything_ to him, pal. I don't know how he figured it out." He turned toward Luke and then Leia. "How did _you _– oh, I can't tell Lando but you can tell Luke, is that how this went?"

"You think _I _told him?"

"How else could he have known?"

Luke smiled behind a hand. The two of them would keep their children entertained, he was sure. "The Force, Han. That's how I knew."

He looked skeptically at Leia. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she confirmed, wrapping an arm around his waist and leaning her head on his arm. "You're such an idiot sometimes."

Luke grinned. "Han Solo as a father."

"This is the most disastrous thing to the galaxy you could do, Leia." Lando's teasing grin showed white. "A kid with Solo's temperament _and_ the Force?"

"Gods help us all," Luke kidded. Then he sobered up, looked at the couple as they looked back. "I don't think you'll have to worry about them."

"Worry about us?" Han grinned. "What's there to worry about? We can handle it."

"No, I mean – "

"Luke!" Leia was suddenly heading quickly toward him. "Would you mind helping us with the cargo? Solo won't let me go anywhere near anything with atoms."

Confused, Luke shook his head. "What? Oh, yeah. Sure." He started walking toward the ramp, turning slightly. "And I don't think we need to worry about the twins, Lando. They'll be fine."

Luke watched, mystified, as Leia's head whipped quickly to look at Han, watched as Han raised an eyebrow. "You refer to yourself in the third person often, kid?"

"What?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The twins. My niece and nephew. Who'd you think – oh." He switched his gaze to Leia. "Oh."

"Twins?" Both of them looked back at Han as he slumped against Chewie. "Twins?"

"What? Twins?" Lando looked over and asked Luke.

Luke said, "Oh."

Chewie rumbled as Han slid to the floor. "Twins?" he squeaked. "Are you serious?"

"Oh." He looked at Leia, who had crossed to Han's side, knelt beside him. "He didn't know."

"What twins?" Lando inquired, looking at Chewie for clarification and apparently not receiving any. "Who didn't know what?"

"Leia, I'm so sorry – "

But Leia was busy on other matters. "It was only a suspicion and I didn't know for sure, and I didn't want to tell you before I knew for _sure_ but it must be true because Luke thinks so too, and I – "

" – I didn't know he didn't know, I'm so sorry, Leia – "

Lando stared first at Leia and then Han. "What twins?"

"Rwoolfruum?" Chewie asked of Luke.

"Just now. I swear I didn't know he didn't know."

"Twins? You knew? And you didn't tell me?" Han stared at Leia.

"I didn't know for sure, and I wasn't sure, I meant to, just I didn't want you to worry and – "

Luke looked past Chewie as a very confused Lando cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled, "Can someone _please _tell me what the hell is going on here?"

They stopped, eyes all on Han, who sighed and pushed a hand through his hair. Then he turned, brought his mouth near Leia's ear and whispered. Leia turned her head incredulously toward his face, nose to nose, and began to smile. She kissed Han's cheek and began to laugh, Han pulling her to sit in his lap, grinning with her as he wrapped her arms around her waist.

"I can do that, Lando." Han grinned and kissed the crown of Leia's head. "Instead of _one _Jedi Solo, there are going to be _two_."

He laughed good-naturedly at Lando's surprised smile.

"And since you are so _in tune _with our private lives, you are going to be their babysitter the minute they began levitating things."

Lando's smile faltered while Han's laugh reverberated through the hanger, the rest joining him, as they welcomed the as-yet unborn Solo twins into their lives. Luke went to embrace his sister the minute she extracted herself from Han's lap, apologizing profusely as Leia laughed and shook her head. Chewie once again swept Han up into a tight embrace, and then switching to a gentler hug as he congratulated Leia. Lando was smiling once again, shaking Han's hand and play-punching Solo's right arm, as Han led the group towards the _Falcon_.

Luke watched Han turn to Leia, stopping her before she climbed the ramp. "Oh, no. No, no, no. Go sit down."

"Solo – "

"Sit down. Enjoy the rest. I doubt we're getting any more any time soon."

She sighed melodramatically as Han walked towards the ramp. "Fine. But, Solo?"

He turned back towards her. "Yeah?"

"Our children are _never _riding with Lando in his ship. Ever. Right?"

His laughter brought a smile to her own face and she leaned back against a nearby pile of crates to watch the men in her life unload the _Falcon _lookingfor once and never again, content to stay just where she was.

* * *

And they lived happily ever after . . . until their children decided to becomeHermit Jacenand Darthess Jaina and little Anakin becomes . . . well. Right.

Happily ever after!

KR


End file.
